Just Like Christmas
by Foxotr
Summary: The Joker agrees to help a troubled man get rid of the voices inside his head. A short One Shot


The Joker stood in a room filled with his thugs, keeping to himself until he heard murmuring. He turned his head to the side, annoyed and found the source. One of his men, a heavy set one at that, was standing alone nervously twitching and mumbling to himself. It seemed like he was carrying on a conversation with his own self. A smile spread across the Joker's lips. _Perfect. Looks like this one needs a little push. _He strode over to the man and smiled at him.

"Tell me, uh, _Chubby_, what's _eating_ you, huh?"

The man's eyes filled with tears as he shakily balled his hands into fists and raised them up to his ears. "No. I said _no_. P-please, boss. I-I can't get them to st…NO! I c-can't get them t-to…"

The Joker rolled his eyes, drawing closer to the man, and grabbed his balled up fists, pulling them down away from his face. "Hey. _Hey_. I can't understand you when you're, uh, _mumbling_ like that. Contrary to, uh, popular _belief_ I _don't_ speak _crazy_. Do you mind answering my _question_ in a language I can _maybe_ comprehend, hm?"

The man nodded, letting a few tears fall from his eyes. "S-sorry. It's the voices, boss. Can't make 'em go away. They're driving me mad. I can't _take_ it anymore."

The Joker smacked his lips and pulled them down into a frown, nodding sympathetically at the man. "Oh, that's too _bad_, really. Just _terrible._ You, uh, you want to know a little _secret_, Butterball? Hm?"

The man nodded.

The Joker leaned even closer into the man's personal space, having no regard for such things. His voice lowered as he licked his lips and his painted face grew serious. "Y'see, I know how to make that _all_ go away. The voices. _Everything_."

The man's eyes suddenly lit up with hope. "Y-you do?"

"Of _course_ I do. See, I know _a lot_ of things _most_ people wouldn't, uh, wouldn't _think_ that I could _possibly_ know. I'm kind of like a, uh, oh what's that _phrase_ I'm looking for?" He pursed his mangled lips and drew his dark eyes up, searching for his answer. When it came to him he licked his lips, smiled, and brought his eyes back to the man. "Oh. _Right_. See, I'm like a _Jack of All Trades_. Now, do you want my _help_ or _not_, Tons-of-fun?"

The man nodded eagerly. "Yessir."

The Joker's lips curled up into a huge grin. _What a gullible asshole. Sometimes it was just __**too**__ easy to get to some people. _"_Good. _Now," he spun his head around the room, searching. His eyes fell on the old table set up in the far corner of the room diagonal from where they were standing. "Why don't you _follow me_, hm?"

The man nodded. He followed the Joker to the table and watched as he dug around in his coat, pulling out some explosives, a cell phone, and a spool of thread, a needle, and one of his knives. The man continued to watch as the Joker shrugged out of his coats, throwing them to the floor, and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up past his elbows. The other thugs in the room with them silently watched too, not moving.

The Joker worked fast. His face was set in deep concentration as he wired the explosives to the cell phone. When he finished he set his handiwork on the table along with the needle and thread. He turned to the man who was watching him curiously. He pulled his lips into a half grin, gripping his knife tight in one hand, and gestured to the table with his other hand. "Why don't you, uh, make yourself _comfortable_, hm?"

The man stared wide-eyed back at the still smiling Joker. "Boss?"

"It would be in your _best interest_ to, uh, _not_ make me ask you _again_," he licked his lips, and raised his eyebrows once at the man to accentuate his point. "You either want my help or you _don't_. Choice is yours, but I'm _not_ going to stand here and _wait _while you and the, uh, _Brady Bunch_ in your head make up your mind. _Got it_?"

The man cautiously walked towards the table and sat on it, the legs creaking under his weight. "O-ok."

The Joker let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. "No, no, _no._ More comfortable than _that_. Come on, now."

He didn't wait for the man to reply. He shoved the man on his back with one hand. He kept the man pinned and with his other hand he used his knife to tug the man's t-shirt up to his chest.

"B-boss? P-please. You said you were going to _help_. You d-didn't say you were going to _hurt_ me. P-please."

The Joker rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated growl, holding the man in place still with one arm. "I _am_ going to help you. You _know_ I'm a man of my _word_. I wouldn't _lie_ to you," he looked down at the man, his face genuinely calm. "But, uh, I _never_ said it wouldn't _hurt_. Did I? Hm?"

The man shook his head. "N-no. P-please, boss. What are you going to do?"

The Joker sighed, licked his lips, and grinned wide at the man. "I'm going to make the voices go away."

The man swallowed a lump of pure fear down his throat, tears now rolling down his chubby cheeks. He spoke between sobs, "P-please! D-don't hurt me! P-please!"

The Joker's angry face was right in front of the man's now, glaring at him. "If you don't _shut up_ I will _kill_ you right _now_!"

The man nodded and held his mouth shut tight, sobbing through his nose, desperately praying for some sort of mercy from the Joker.

"Muuuch _better_," the Joker's lips were curled up into a smile again. "Now, do you still want my _help_ or _not_?"

The man hesitated before finally asking, "W-what are you g-going to d-do to me?"

The Joker let go of the man and carefully picked up the bomb he had just constructed, holding it in front of the man's face, smiling at him. "Well, I'm going to go _inside_ you and I'm going to make the voices _go away_ like I _said_ I would; with _this_. Now," he paused sensing the man's utter terror and reveling in it with a smile. "Before you go and, uh, _freak_ out on me again I need you to answer this little _question_ for me. Do you, uh, do you like _Christmas_, Jelly Belly?"

The man stared up in confusion. "C-Christmas?"

The Joker nodded. ""Yes, _Christmas_. Y'know of the, uh, _Holly Jolly_ variety."

The man nodded, understanding. "Oh. Y-yes. I like Christmas."

The Joker smiled, patting the man roughly on his large exposed gut. "Of _course_ you do. Now, you, uh, you know how at Christmas time there's _always_ all sorts of, uh, fucking _bright_ and _cheery _lights _everywhere_?"

The man nodded. A smile of recognition and happy memories spread across his face. "I love the lights. They're pretty."

The Joker nodded at him, still smiling. "Well _that's_ what it's going to be like. I'm just, uh, just going to go inside and replace all those, uh, _pesky_ voices with nice _bright_ lights. Just. Like. _Christmas_."

The man was still smiling, his mind on a happy Christmas scene and the prospect of being better. "Ok. Go ahead. I'm ready."

The Joker laughed at the pathetic fat man. He patted him hard on the cheek before he called over the rest of his men in the room. "Hold him down for me, boys."

The men listened and quickly surrounded the table, holding the man down on all sides. The Joker stepped in, his knife in his grip, and effortlessly cut the man open below his navel. The man screamed in pain, blood pooling out of the incision and around the table, as the Joker merrily hummed the tune to Jingle Bells. He grabbed the bomb and pulled the incision apart so that he could fit his hand inside along with the bomb. He shoved his hand with the bomb up inside the bleeding wound; pushing it up past the screaming man's navel. He made sure it was set and would stay in place before he grabbed the thread and needle with his blood soaked hand and stitched the man up haphazardly in a zig-zag pattern.

The last thing the man saw before he passed out from the horrific pain was the Joker's wild smiling face, exclaiming loudly with a fit of uncontrollable laughter, "Merry Christmas to _all_, and to all a _good night_!"


End file.
